Flights of Angels

by Victoria Connelly

  ‘Oh, Claudes.’

  ‘No, don’t feel sorry for me, Kris. It’s just that I often wonder what would have happened if I’d never left France. If mother hadn’t sent me over here.’ She stared out of the tiny kitchen window as if looking into an alternative future. ‘I wouldn’t have met Luke for a start. But do you think I might have met somebody else? And what then? I mean, am I fated as a person? Would it matter where I lived or who I met?’

  ‘I don’t follow.’

  Claudie shook her head as she tried to make herself understood. ‘I mean, do you think we’re destined to live the same lives, no matter where we live in the world?’

  ‘I really don’t know.’ Kristen looked up and suddenly her eyes widened.

  ‘What is it?’ Claudie asked.

  ‘Is that Gene Kelly?’ Kristen asked, nodding towards a small corkboard crammed with black and white postcards. ‘Blimey. He’s gorgeous.’

  ‘You’ve only just noticed?’

  ‘I couldn’t help noticing really. You’ve got him in every room of the house. He’s even in the bathroom!’ Kristen laughed. ‘It was a bit embarrassing standing completely naked in front of a life-sized poster of him.’

  Claudie giggled. ‘He keeps me company.’

  Kristen looked at the postcard again, momentarily forgetting her cheese and Marmite bap. ‘God! Just look at those arms.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And that cute smile. He’s a real sweetheart.’ Kristen beamed at Claudie. ‘But not as cute as Simon.’

  ‘Kris!’

  ‘Just making an observation.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘Come on though, you’ve got to admit that Simon’s cute.’

  ‘I’m not getting into that discussion,’ Claudie said very firmly.

  ‘I wonder why he was calling. He must think you’re cute if he’s calling round already. You’ll have to ring him and find out.’

  ‘I’m doing no such thing.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I just don’t do that sort of thing.’

  ‘No, Claudes: heroines in fifties musicals might not do that sort of thing, but twenty-first century women have to.’

  Claudie grimaced. ‘I don’t see-’

  ‘Aren’t you just a little bit curious?’ Kristen asked. ‘Gosh, if I had someone as cute as Simon chasing after me, I wouldn’t run away.’ Kristen suddenly laughed. ‘But I did run away, didn’t I? Ah well,’ she said, flapping her hands, ‘we weren’t meant to be. But you-’

  ‘I just don’t think it’s right,’ Claudie pleaded.

  ‘Right or not, you’re going to do it. In the next hour too.’ Kristen got up and grabbed her coat from the back of the sofa.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To Simon’s.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I need to talk to him.’

  ‘Kris! Don’t you dare go stirring things,’ Claudie said, panic rising in her voice.

  ‘I’m not! Don’t worry. I just need a word. It’s got nothing to do with you, believe me. But,’ she said, peering across at Claudie with a very serious expression on her face, ‘by the time I get to Simon’s, I want to hear that you’ve called him. All right?’

  ‘I don’t think-’

  ‘Claudes!’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Good. Here’s his number,’ Kristen said, writing it down with a great grin on her face. ‘Give him a call.’

  Kristen hovered at the front door for a moment, something else obviously on her mind. ‘Claudes?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What was all that about angels last night?’

  Claudie almost dropped the carton of milk she was holding.

  ‘Were you just a little bit tipsy or do I have to start worrying about you again?’

  Claudie put the milk carton on the draining board out of harm’s way. ‘You don’t have to start worrying about me again.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Claudie nodded. ‘Now get on out. I’m not going to ring Simon in front of you. And don’t forget your bap.’

  Kristen blew her a kiss from the door before disappearing out into the yard, bap in hand.

  As soon as she was out of sight, Claudie looked down at the phone number, the paper trembling in her hand like a leaf about to take flight. Was she really going to do this or had she just been humouring Kristen? She looked down at the six numbers. Just six numbers divided them. All she had to do was pick up the phone and dial them. It was easy, wasn’t it?

  She walked through to the living room and sat down by the telephone. No, she thought, it wasn’t easy at all. The telephone sat there, white and fat like a sleeping cat. But would it bite her if she dared to pick it up?

  Taking a deep breath, she picked up the receiver and dialled before she had a chance to change her mind. He could be on the internet, of course. No. It was ringing. Or out? He might not have gone straight home after calling by hers.

  ‘Hello?’

  Claudie felt her heart skip a beat. He had gone straight home.

  ‘Simon? It’s Claudie.’

  ‘Clawwdeee!’

  ‘Hello,’ she said, feeling nervous and excited all at once.

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine. I’m fine,’ she stumbled, twisting the telephone cord around her index finger until she almost cut off her circulation.

  ‘Good.’

  God. What was she going to say now? ‘Simon? Did you call round before?’ She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling of her living room.

  ‘You were in?’

  She stumbled over her own thoughts. ‘Ye-es. Sorry. I didn’t quite make it to the door.’

  There was a pause. Claudie guessed it to be an awkward one.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said at last.

  ‘I had a late night,’ she said, and almost clamped her hand to her mouth. That sounded just awful. ‘Me and Kristen. We had a late night.’

  There was another awkward pause, and then Claudie thought of a way out of her dilemma. ‘Was it Kristen you called for?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘Because she’s here. You know, because of Jimmy.’ Claudie suddenly bit her tongue. Perhaps he didn’t know.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘They had a row. I think it’s just the usual thing, but she’s pretty upset.’

  ‘Of course.’

  There was another pause.

  ‘So, Simon?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Why did you call round?’ Claudie cringed at her question. Did it sound too confrontational?

  ‘I was,’ he began and then cleared his throat, causing Claudie to pull away from the phone for a second. ‘I was going to ask if you were doing anything this weekend.’

  Claudie blinked. She didn’t know what to say. ‘You mean other than sleep and get over drinking too much wine last night?’

  ‘Yes. Did you want to go out?’ There was no hesitation or throat clearing this time.

  ‘Yes,’ Claudie replied, shocking herself for being so direct.

  ‘Good.’

  Please, Claudie thought, don’t let there be another pause or I might change my mind.

  ‘How about tonight? We could go somewhere for dinner,’ Simon suggested.

  ‘Okay,’ Claudie said, before remembering that she was meant to be Kristen-sitting.

  ‘Great!’

  Claudie felt like laughing. He sounded so happy.

  ‘I’ll call round at about half past seven?’

  ‘Fine,’ Claudie said. ‘See you later.’

  ‘Bye.’

  Claudie put the phone down and began to panic. She had only six hours to get ready.

  Chapter 31

  She’d said yes! And the word had practically flown from her mouth. Simon sat down. First the Paris trip and now this. Life was simply too stunning for words.

  Paris and Claudie. Now there was a thought. What a shame he couldn’t link the two of those together. He shook h
is head. She’d only agreed to go out to dinner with him. She’d probably only said yes because she didn’t like cooking. Or maybe she’d grown tired of watching old movies. The possibilities were endless, and they probably had little to do with romance. But he could hope, couldn’t he?

  He stretched back on the sofa, kicking his shoes off and not bothering to pick them up and place them neatly in the hallway. He could do that now Felicity wasn’t around, and he liked it. For a moment, he wondered if Claudie had any feminine quirks such as neatness, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it entered his head. No, she was perfect, or that’s what he’d let himself believe for a while. She wouldn’t yell if he left a trail of lights on round the house like Blackpool illuminations, or if there were still breakfast dishes on the table at dinnertime.

  He was just losing himself in a world of domestic bliss where dishes washed themselves, and shirts ironed themselves when his doorbell went. His heart skipped a beat until reality kicked in and told him that Claudie couldn’t possibly have made it to his front door, even if she’d had a private plane.

  He stuffed his feet into his shoes, just in case his mother had decided to make an impromptu visit and noticed that his socks were more hole than wool. But it wasn’t his mother. It was Kristen.

  ‘Hey!’ He ushered her inside, noticing the red-rimmed eyes that had one of two sources: heavy drinking or heavy crying and, since Claudie’s phone call, he happened to know that Kristen had succumbed to both.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind me calling round unannounced?’ Kristen said.

  ‘When have I ever minded?’

  Kristen gave him a smile but he could tell it was forced, and then he remembered what Claudie had said.

  ‘Come on through. It’s time we had a talk.’

  Kristen nodded as if she’d worked that out for herself.

  Simon knew he made a mean cup of tea and, once two steaming mugs had been placed side by side on the table in the living room, he thought he’d better start making his apologies.

  ‘Look, Kris. If your row with Jimmy has got anything to do with this trip to Paris, I’ll be happy to call the whole thing off.’

  ‘Paris?’ she said in surprise. ‘It’s got nothing to do with Paris.’

  ‘But I thought he’d found out about the weekend?’

  ‘No! God, no! He has no idea about it. And you mustn’t say anything either.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Simon assured her. ‘So what’s happened?’

  Kristen sipped her tea by way of delaying her answer. Simon didn’t want to ask her if it was the usual old argument but he had a feeling that it was and, the longer Kristen took to answer, the more he suspected it.

  ‘I’ve left him,’ she said at last in a very small but very calm voice.

  Simon almost spilt his tea down the front of his shirt. ‘What - really?’

  ‘Really.’

  He weighed her up for a moment. After all, there were degrees of leaving. There was Kristen-leaving and Felicity-leaving, and Kristen-leaving didn’t usually amount to more than a night’s separation from Jimmy whilst Felicity-leaving involved fleecing the house of everything of value, and a little bit else besides.

  ‘What happened?’

  Kristen gave Simon the Technicolor version of Friday evening, and he made all the appropriate noises at the appropriate times until Kristen had purged herself, and they were left shaking their heads at each other.

  ‘Anyway,’ Kristen said at length, pushing her hair away from her face and smiling brightly at him, ‘did Claudie call you?’

  Simon smiled, partly because he was relieved that they’d changed the subject, and partly at the memory of the phone call with Claudie.

  ‘Simon?’ Kristen goaded. ‘She did, didn’t she?’

  Simon’s smile grew into an obscenely large grin. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And?’ Kristen leant forward like an inquisitive chat show host.

  ‘And we’re going out tonight.’

  ‘NO!’

  ‘YES!’

  ‘That’s great!’

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  Kristen nodded. ‘So what did you say to her? Or did she ask you out?’

  ‘Kris!’

  ‘Okay! It’s none of my business,’ she agreed, probably making a mental note to quiz Claudie about it later on, Simon thought mischievously.

  ‘But you like her, right?’

  ‘Of course I like her! I wouldn’t be exchanging an evening alone watching family quiz shows if I didn’t like her.’

  ‘So I might have got something right for a change?’

  ‘I’m not going to answer that - yet.’

  ‘Okay,’ Kristen said. ‘Mind if I use the bathroom?’

  Kristen nipped upstairs feeling rather pleased with herself for having introduced Simon to Claudie. Her suspicions had been correct. They were just so right for each other.

  As she caught sight of her reflection in the bathroom cabinet, Kristen suddenly thought of how much fun she’d have telling Jimmy about it all. She loved proving him wrong, but she wasn’t able to tell him, was she? She’d be spending another night at Claudie’s. Alone too, if Claudie was out late with Simon.

  As she looked around the bathroom, she noticed that there was a distinct lack of female. There were no fancy bath salts or feminine bottles of lotion; there were no fluffy make-up bags or soaps on ropes. And then a thought occurred to her. What would the bathroom in Cabin Cottage look like if she removed all of her things? She tried to imagine Jimmy’ toothbrush standing alone in the blue enamel mug, but it was too sad to contemplate.

  She was just coming out of the bathroom when she heard the front doorbell ring. Watching from the top of the landing as Simon opened the front door, she couldn’t quite see who it was. It wasn’t until she heard a familiar voice that her stomach flipped in horror.

  ‘Is that what you call a greeting?’ a loud, lordly voiced asked.

  ‘Felicity?’

  An arm pushed past Simon, and Kristen watched as Felicity charged into the house, suitcase in hand.

  ‘Well?’ Felicity asked, expectancy fuelling her voice. ‘Aren’t you going to welcome me home?’

  Simon watched in stunned silence as Felicity brought her suitcase into the front room. She sat down on the sofa but not before brushing a few biscuit crumbs onto the floor and plumping the cushions. She looked pale, and had maybe even lost a few pounds since he’d last seen her.

  For a split second, Simon almost felt sorry for her, but he could still see that cold edge to her. She practically exuded coldness as if wearing it as a perfume.

  He sat on the only other chair in the room and stared hard at Felicity. He had about a hundred things he wanted to say to her, and none of them were very pleasant, but he waited for her to speak first. He couldn’t wait to hear this particular explanation, and could only hope that she was here to return the money she’d stolen from him. He was in dire need of it at the moment.

  ‘What have you been doing with yourself?’ she started clumsily.

  Simon gave her a blank look. ‘It’s Saturday. I’ve not been doing anything.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  Simon had a feeling that he knew exactly what she meant. How much money was he earning now? That’s what she wanted to know, and he wasn’t about to tell her. She’d taken enough of what was his already.

  ‘Has your business taken off?’ she said, her tone sounding exasperated.

  ‘It’s doing okay.’

  She eyed him for a moment, lining up the next question in her head. ‘So you’re doing all right now?’

  ‘I’m getting by,’ he said, being as polite and evasive as possible.

  There was a moment’s pause as they looked at each other, and Simon thought that he had said all that he wanted to this woman. Their business was done. It was over. History.

  ‘Well if you’re not going to make me a cup of tea, I am,’ Felicity said, suddenly getting up and walking through to the kitchen. Simon did
n’t bother to follow; instead he remained sat down and counted to three.

  One. Two. Thr-

  ‘Bloody hell, Simon. You could have done the washing up!’

  Simon closed his eyes. This wasn’t happening. This was a nightmare from which he’d awake at any second.

  ‘Pssst!’

  There, he thought. That was his alarm clock.

  ‘Pssssssst!’

  Although he’d never heard it make a noise like that before.

  ‘Simon!’

  He opened his eyes. It was Kristen. He’d forgotten all about her. He got up and walked quickly to the door whilst Felicity was cursing in the kitchen at the state of the place.

  ‘What’s she doing back here?’ Kristen whispered angrily.

  ‘I don’t know yet. She hasn’t told me.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just tell her to f-off?’

  ‘She didn’t give me a chance.’

  ‘God, Simon! Are you a man or a mouse? Give you a chance! Don’t you remember what she did to you?’

  ‘Of course I bloody remember! Just give me some time to work it out.’

  ‘What do you need to work out? She’s a bitch.’

  ‘Shush!’ Simon waved his hand in the air, terrified Felicity might hear them.

  ‘What perfect timing, as usual. What are you going to do?’

  Simon scratched his head and frowned. ‘Try and find out what she’s done with my bloody money, and then get rid of her.’

  ‘I mean about Claudie?’

  ‘Claudie? Bloody hell! What’s the time?’

  ‘Time you should be getting ready for your date with Claudie.’

  Simon rolled his eyes. ‘Kris, you’ve got to help me.’

  ‘Didn’t I just know it? And I came here thinking you could help me!’

  They smiled hopelessly at one another. ‘I really don’t want to let Claudie down.’

  ‘And I don’t want you to let her down. I feel responsible for all this.’

  ‘So what are we going to do?’

  Kristen sighed, peeking through the gap in the door to make sure Felicity was still ensconced in the kitchen. ‘You sort Felicity out, and I’ll explain to Claudie. Just make sure you get rid of her this time - don’t let her wangle her way back in with you.’